


bridge over troubled water.

by ffomixam



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Established Relationship, F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Parental Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 11:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffomixam/pseuds/ffomixam
Summary: July 12th 1958, Julia Lennon dies. You’re at the funeral reception with your boyfriend, and her son, John when he goes missing.





	bridge over troubled water.

“ When you're weary, feeling small

When tears are in your eyes, I'll dry them all (all)

I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough

And friends just can't be found

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down .”

 

\- Simon & Garfunkel.

 

* * *

 

 

The weather was cruel. Typical July heat and sun glaring down upon the garden where you sat amidst a group of strangers and acquaintances, all clad in black.

Today you had gone to the funeral of Julia Lennon. The mother of your boyfriend John.

You had gone to the reception together at his aunt Mimi’s house and he had told you he needed to use the toilet. That was fifteen minutes ago, and you were concerned as you glanced around the small crowds of people. Hoping to see that he had maybe just stopped to talk to various family members.

No such luck.

You went inside where it was only slightly chiller. It was completely silent with only a few whispers among small groups. An older woman whom you didn’t recognize looked at you with downcast eyes and solemnly nodded to her small crowd of other elderly women.

You paused in your steps and looked around for John. He was nowhere to be found here too.

In the corner of the living room sat the members of his skiffle group, all holding each their own small cups of coffee. You slowly made your way towards them.

“Anyone of you seen John?”

You asked in a hushed voice, not wanting to alert anyone of his missing.

The group looked amongst themselves and Paul McCartney, one of the newest additions to the group answered with a slight nod, “he went upstairs.” You muttered a thank you and patted him softly on his shoulder as you left again.  

You snaked through the crowd and slowly went up the old stairs.

On the second floor, there was a complete hush. No whispers and mutterings of grieving people. Just complete silence. Almost as if you had entered a different world. But it was a heavy silence. A familiar one that usually accompanied death and sorrow. You shuttered and looked around the hallway. The door to John’s room was shut.

You went to knock but paused just before you met the door. You could hear a small sound, of what you were unsure. Whimpering? You leaned closer to the door and listened. “John?” You gently asked against the wood frame and the sound stilled.

“I’m coming in. Alright?” You waited for a few seconds with no answer and opened the door.

John was sitting on the edge of the bed. A banjo beside him. He wasn’t looking at you as you entered the small room but rather at his feet, head lowered so the only thing you could see was his neck and head of hair.

You shut the door behind you and walked over to John. He sat completely still with only the occasional sniff. You crouched in front of him and softly rested your hand on his knee. You didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure what to say. So you just sat there, running small circles with your thumb on his knee.

“I…” he started with a parched croak. You looked up and your eyes met. His skin under the eyes was red and tender, and bags were starting to form. He looked horrible and you realised why he had disappeared on you. He hated looking weak or emotional in front of other people, and when called out upon it or fearing that people knew; he would cope with anger and rage.

You nodded at him to continue, silently showing your support.

He swallowed deeply, “I had only just started to really know her.” His voice wavered and he sounded like he was on the brink of tears again. He took a sharp intake of breath. “It’s not fair,” he shut his eyes as tears broke loose. Your hands shook as you pulled him into a hug with whisperings of “I know.”

“I know,” you whispered into the skin of his neck as you were wrapped around him, and he around you. Both of you were shaking, him more than you, “I know,” you repeated.

You leaned back, holding him by the biceps and looked in him in the eyes. You moved a hand to gently wipe at the renegade tears, drops of water trying to get free. “I love you,” you whispered, “and I’ll always be here whenever you need me to, okay? Whenever you need me,” you nodded and lightly caressed his wet cheek.

You met in a momentary, comforting, kiss. His lips tasted of salt water and you held him close as you parted.

“I’m here for you,” you whispered and closed your eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> it’s my own mother’s death anniversary today so i suppose i wrote this short and rather abrupt thing as a way to cope.


End file.
